


Paw and Order: SVU

by bubb



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Dadvid (mentioned), Gen, Max loving the absolute shit out of his friends (also mentioned), also a side helping of Nikki lore, and some very specific headcanons on Nikki's home and family life, but the main focus is Max having a love-hate relationship with dogs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 09:50:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20619056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubb/pseuds/bubb
Summary: Now, this may have happened a million times before and he was beyond desensitized. He may be getting bigger and sturdier by the day. He may have seen this coming ten miles away. But despite it all, he still made the same startled yelp he did since he was ten, the shield of his arms flying over his face when a pandemonium of excitable rottweilers dived on him. Flattened to the floor and groaning in annoyance, Max proceeded to endure the most suffocating cuddle pile he had ever experienced.





	Paw and Order: SVU

**Author's Note:**

> (Wrote this as a gift for somebody months ago but figured i'd throw it out here since Max liking dogs is canon now.)

“What’s in it for me?”

A question spoken by Max. A practiced phrase that ticked as more of a reflex these days than a voluntary decision to speak. In every form besides legal copyright, he owned that question too. Anyone else who dared use it received a dirty look from yours truly.

Neil was the only one who didn’t tolerate it. Apparently with great height comes great backbone as he had gotten both taller _and_ ballsier in the last three years. When he needed a favor, Max replied per usual and without even a flicker of annoyance, Neil looked him dead in the eye and stated “What’s "in it for you” is a continuation of this friendship. And an ass left un-kicked. Does that sound fair?“

Left floored and admittedly impressed, Max complied. Did whatever the nerd asked. Fuck Neil.

Nikki was a different case. She always offered payment for his services. She fully believed he was entitled to an exchange. Girl was as genuine as they come and Neil had scolded him repeatedly for taking advantage of that. ("Don’t you dare! Don’t make Nikki pay when you can easily do it for free. That’s what friends do, you cunt!”)

But Neil wasn’t here right now. It was just Max and Nikki. And still abiding by Max-like etiquette, he was obliged to start up his usual Song n’ Dance.

“Uhhhhhhhhhh...” Nikki buzzed from the other end of the receiver as she considered her options. “I got seventeen dollars aaaaaand...a bag of Fritos?”

Max squinted, momentarily drawing the phone away from his ear to give it a withering look. “Is that it? This is for a whole weekend, Nik. That is, if I actually agree to it.”

At that moment, the bus jolted to a halt by one of its stops. The bus Max was currently riding. The bus he had hopped on as soon as Nikki called and explained the situation. The bus that he was taking to his destination because he fully intended to carry out the favor.

He would do absolutely anything for both Neil and Nikki, payment or no payment. That was a non-negotiable rule written in neon lights in the forefront of his subconscious.

However, Nikki hadn’t figured that out yet. He continued to bluff and she continued to offer exchanges. Money, food, movie tickets, a loan of video games, her assistance with pranks or homework, etc. Half the time, Max forgot to cash in on her end of the bargain after he had done his. Or y'know, sometimes he just “forgot.”

It was more important to have Nikki think he was a greedy hardass than to actually_ be_ a greedy hardass.

“Okay, uhh, what about a pizza? I’ll buy you a pizza,”

“Hmm.” Max scratched at the nonexistent hairs on his chin in a feigned pondering away. Then he remembered Nikki couldn’t see him and promptly stopped. “You’ve got a strong offer there. Howsabout you sweeten the deal? Going once...”

“I-Ice cream? Pizza and ice cream!” She exclaimed like a desperate bidder at an auction. But knowing Nik, she’d be throwing her money at a moldy melon found in a ditch as she was scammed into thinking it was a medieval era cannonball.

“Going twice...”

“Movie night! Pizza and ice cream movie night! And-and...you can choose the movie!”

“Sold!” Max announced, slapping his knee like a gavel. “To the little lady with the pigtails!”

“HELL YES!!”

He winced at the sudden eardrum burst, throwing the phone out at arm’s length. In hindsight, a celebratory shriek was to be expected. Nikki’s excitement knew nothing of volume control.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou-”

Jesus, she could talk fast.

“Okay, okay!” Max cut her off. “You’re welcome. We get it. I’m the fucking Messiah, I know. Now tell me all the basic shit I gotta know about-”

“Hey, Sweetie,” Another voice tuned in on the other line. A deep voice in stark contrast to Nikki’s high pitch but held a similar warmth and bouncy spirit. “Put him on speaker, would ya? Can’t hold the phone when I’m drivin’”

Max smirked. “That you, Sasquatch?”

“Sure is, little man.” Nikki’s Dad greeted him cheerfully. “Whatcha been up to? ‘Sides bein’ a bastard and arranging movie dates with my kid,”

His eyes narrowed competitively at that. “Nothin’ much. What about you? Still hunting down everybody who took those blurry photos of you?”

Sasquatch scoffed. “Look,kid, I’m a handsome guy n’ all and I don’t mind snapshots usually. But those photos aren’t my best. It was a weird time in my life. I was in the woods. I was naked. And now half of Ohio has images of my ass so I had to-”

“Hey, sorry, uh,” Max interrupted. “Can I ask why you were naked? And in the woods? And in Ohio?”

“No, you cannot. Anyway, let’s change the subject.”

“Let’s not.”

“So, I wrote a-”

“Sasquatch. I wanna talk about Ohio.”

“I wrote a list of everything you gotta know and taped it to the fridge. Also the key’s under the biggest rock. Next to the lawn gnome. Can’t miss it. That is, if you even need a key.”

“Whaaaaaat?” Max adapted a tenor of confusion, propping his arm across the seat in the front of him. “How could I possibly get in without a key?”

“The heck are you talking about, Max?” Nikki chimed in, incredulous. “You always say keys are for suckers and that anybody with half a brain can pick a-”

_“Nik.”_ He hissed warningly as a low laugh rumbled from Sasquatch.

“You really think Nikki wouldn’t tell her ol’ Dad about you kids and your adventures. Can be handy to have a little friend with skills like that. Not sayin’ get yourselves arrested or somethin’ but if you’re ever in hot water, useful to have you around.”

Max snorted. “Glad you support delinquency.”

“Hey, hey, I never said that!”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“But y’know, teen rebellion n’ all that. A part of growin’ up. Thirteen year olds are slippery little shits. Too bad I’m gettin’ old and fuzzy headed and it’s so easy to sneak around behind my back.”

“As if we’d ever dream of doing that in your feeble old age,” He wheedled in that faux tone of innocence that varied in success depending on the adult. Gwen saw through it like glass, David used to fall for it when he was ten but not so much anymore. And of course, half the school faculty could be easily fucked around with. But Sasquatch? Eh, he _acted_ like he bought it but Max knew better than to overlook the man’s intelligence.

Jesus fuck, Sasquatch was cool. Who else could be content to bluff through life like they were some dense, confused old moron as opposed to one of the strongest, sharpest and honestly strangest people (creatures?) he had ever come into contact with? The guy was wired with both the force and instincts of an animal. He’d seen him smash a log in half with his _skull!_ How he hadn’t gotten brain damage was anyone’s fucking guess. Too powerful for his own good, that Sasquatch.

Max himself was a mind chalk full of cleverness and cunning but was also notably puny and unintimidating. He had to go around angrily insisting that he not be underestimated lest others feel his wrath. Imagine how fucking cool it must be to be like Sasquatch. To be so secure in yourself and how awesome you are that you don’t even need people to know it.

“So, where are you guys going anyway?” He asked, raising his voice to be heard over a rustling from across the line, a sound he had become pretty accustomed to with his years of hanging out with Nikki, the greedy little forager.

“Fam’ly campin’ trip!” Her muffled voice answered eagerly, mouth obviously packed in like a hamster.

“Yup, a big family retreat out in the woods. Me, Nikki and as many of our pack that can make it.” Said Sasquatch. “And we’re supposed to bring plenty of snacks so if you could _please_ stop eatin’ ‘em, Nicolette!”

Nikki swallowed. “Girl’s gotta make sacrifices to not die of starvation in this Dog Eat Dog world, Dad. A wise man taught me that.”

“Me?”

“Bingo.”

“You’ve been fed, ya little goblin! We stopped at Mcdonald’s twenty minutes ago!”

“We sure did! And it’s a good thing too or I woulda been so hungry by now, I woulda started eating your leg.”

“How many is in this pack exactly?” Max interrupted. As much as he’d like to hear Nikki chatter about eating her father, he couldn’t imagine the gnawing noises would be that pleasant to listen to. Plus, he was kind of curious. He had heard plenty about Candy’s side of the family, usually from Sasquatch who was infamously known as an enemy to most of his past in-laws. Also to his ex-wife, come to think of it.

“Well, now let me see. I got me eight brothers. One’s in jail for his weaponized geese stunt so he couldn’t make it. One’s laying low somewhere in Sweden with his wife. He rescued her from some government facility in Nevada but luckily Vegas accepts all kinds a’ weird marriages. So that’s six bros comin.’ Although Suds is nocturnal so even though he’ll be there, we probably won’t see him as much as the rest of ‘em.”

“Aunt Heather too,” Nikki piped up before Max got get a word in. “She had triplets last year so that’s three extra babies. Three and a half if you count her weasel. And whole bunch of extra cousins. Is that guy in the bear suit coming, Dad?”

“Sweetie, he’s the one who arranged this whole thing.”

“There’s a guy in a bear suit?” Max asked flatly.

Sure, why not.

“Yep,” Said Sasquatch. “He’s been around since I was a boy and in all these years, he ain’t never seen him without that suit of his. Don’t exactly know how we’re related. Rest of the clan doesn’t either. Some of us figure it might be our long lost uncle Jerry but it’d be rude to ask. Anyways, he’s been here so long, he’s family now so that’s that.”

“You don’t....know who this guy is?”

“I know he’s one of the best poker players in the country and that’s good enough for me.”

“Are you sure you have not just accepted an actual wild bear into your family?”

“I mean, _probably_ not.”

“Oh, oh, oh and Nana No Chin is coming too!” Added Nikki excitedly. “Last time she taught me how to talk to bees. She said we’re moving on to wasps next!”

“Nana....No Chin....?”

“Ah, Max, don’t act so stunned. It’s just a name, see. Old bird’s got herself a chin now.”

“What do you mean _now?”_

“Well, she lost it in a bet a few years back. But that’s not important. She’s got one and that’s that. Sure it’s not legally _hers_ but-”

“Oh, and a cousin Richard is coming!”

“That’s right, Sweetie, he sure is! Excited to see him myself, love that guy. He can cook like no one’s business.”

Max braced himself. “And what’s cousin Richard’s deal?”

“He’s an accountant.” Sasquatch answered.

“.....Oh.”

“And a nudist.”

“Oh.”

* * *

The journey to Nikki’s place never ceased to be a royal pain in the ass. First of all, he had to endure the hazard of public transport to detach himself from the city which then unceremoniously dumped him by one of the most unnerving bus stops in the United States.

Out in the middle of nowhere, it consisted of single slated bench that knew not even the shadow of a citizen’s butt, and the customary blue sign that towered above on a banged up pole. That sign was the one thing linking this desolate little zone to the numerous bus stops that peppered the city, so you can’t blame Max for being a little unreasonably dependent on it. It was the only goddamn thing that made sense on Sasquatch’s turf.

Clutches of yellow weeds clumped around the bench’s ankles and the sign still a victim of unusual graffiti. Max had questioned it before and even Nikki would shrug. No one knew the meaning of those peculiar symbols in the dark red paint.

Sometimes when Max was here, he would have the pleasure (?) of encountering Thaddeus. A little old man who would always stand a short distance from the Stop (Although never allowing himself to be too close to it for whatever reason.) Thaddeus wore a brown tweed coat, charcoal dress slacks and a pair of slightly scuffed, strawberry patterned converse sneakers. His impeccably trimmed beard was dyed auburn and clashed with his cloudy hair.

The last time Max had seen Thaddeus, the man had snapped a large pair of neon orange headphones over his ears, giving him the appearance of a comical cartoon monkey. The three teens had passed him without a word (though Neil still risked a curious glance.) Nikki later recalled hearing him mumble “Today, I will find my wife,” while Max was unable to hear anything the man had said as the blasting volume of a Cupcakke rap song was leaking through his headphones.

Thaddeus was not here today.

Secondly, Max had to walk and did not appreciate that toll on his short, stupid legs. Sasquatch’s home was down an unmarked road that seemed to not go straight, but to swirl him into oblivion until all five senses became blurry and disoriented. But it was fine, Max was used to it now. He was used to all this bullshit, really. So Nikki’s Dad may or may not live in the realm of the eternally damned, who gives a fuck anymore?

It said some weird stuff about Nikki though. The kid couldn’t live in the city full time for health reasons but she was at peace here? Really? Sure, the area was surrounded by a forests but....with how eerie this whole place was, God knows what lurked from within there.

Max shrugged it off as he cut distance, a high roof beginning to peep out from a mess of evergreens. Whatever was in those woods, Nikki had probably earned its loyalty by now. She had a gift for taming all inhabitants of the wild.

Knowing the trail, it felt like the forests autonomously unraveled and the outline of the house sharpened in detail. It awaited him, peaceful and patient, like an abandoned toy in the grass under a sheet of grime and dirt. Strange, considering the place was normally anything but desolate. Maybe it just missed Sasquatch and Nikki.

Nah, that’s stupid. No house is alive. No matter how many times you hear it speak its language of ominous clattering and untouched creaking floorboards.

Or maybe it was _them_ that were emitting such a melancholy mood. They had always been a pouty bunch when their old buddy and little girl went away.

Max rolled his eyes at the image of their big dopey faces drawn exaggeratedly long and miserable, but even as he did so, he hurried himself along slightly, crouching down to pick up the hideous lawn gnome with the chipped off nose and sharpie-d on goatee. (Guilty as charged.)

“If you even need a key.” He grumbled, jamming it into the lock. As if the guy thought he just went around, breaking and entering into whatever house took his fancy. Dumbass. Max had too much business on the outside to get hauled off to jail at thirteen. He had the common sense to stay in on the straight n’ narrow until Neil became rich and could easily bail him out.

He turned the key and the door clicked. Bracing himself to get the wind knocked out of him upon entry, Max pushed it open and stepped inside. However, in a shocking turn of events, he was not rammed to the floor like a bowling pin, instead merely stumbling over Nikki’s bright red rain boots as he edged in further. He kicked them to the side of the welcome mat, where her father’s boots lay in a muddy heap.

The silence of the main hall greeted him and he raised an eyebrow, wondering how he had not yet been given the Official Sasquatch House Welcome. Max had never been in this place longer than five seconds and kept a dry face.

Turning to the little table by the coat stand, he raked his gaze across a small framed photo. Taken by Sasquatch, he assumed.

Nikki, aged eleven, stood proudly in their backyard, one hand on her hip, the other flashing a cheerful thumbs up. She was thoroughly tousled and grassed stained, leaves in her hair giving him the impression she had just fallen out of one of the nearby trees. And clouding around her like an entourage, were the treasured and respected additions of her extended family.

Six of them. Six Rottweilers. Some sat obediently at her sides, some nudging at her legs, one gnawing at a broken branch and one flat out in the grass, snoozing under the sun.

Nap. Taking a nap.

Max glanced up to the stairs at that thought as he loosened his backpack and let it plop to the floor. Should’ve known.

He let out a whistle to summon them and he heard it. Even from here, he heard it. Alerted by his presence was a sharp woof, leading to a chorus of sleepy whines and questioning snuffles. And as if they all cottoned on at once, they took off.

He inhaled.

Upstairs quaked with the sudden stampede, a whole heap of them barreling out of Nikki’s room with a thunder of feet through the hallway, celebratory barking raising the roof as they all crashed into eachother like off the rail bumper cars. And as they came one-by-one in an undignified tumble down the stairs, Max listed off a roll call.

First came **TAR,**

Then **MURDERER,**

**CARNAGE,**

**EL DIABLO,**

**BONECRUSHER**

and Cupcake.

Now, this may have happened a million times before and he was beyond desensitized. He may be getting bigger and sturdier by the day. He may have seen this coming ten miles away. But despite it all, he still made the same startled yelp he did since he was ten, the shield of his arms flying over his face when a pandemonium of excitable rottweilers dived on him. Flattened to the floor and groaning in annoyance, Max proceeded to endure the most suffocating cuddle pile he had ever experienced.

And after years of resisting and knowing it to be all in vain against the dogs’ strength and unstoppable affection, Max just lay there, slobber staining his face and tolerated it like a little bitch.__

* * *

“Maybe he’s just smarter than you.” Max shrugged. He then pressed the phone to his shoulder as he needed two hands to pick up the chair and carry it across the kitchen.

“You bite your tongue!” Neil snapped. “I’m not gonna let my best friend insinuate that the fish bowl headed moron is my intellectual equal.”

Tar and El Diablo were waiting expectantly, milling around him with tails all a-blur. A pair of fatasses, those two.

“I didn’t insinuate it. I said it, plain n’ simple. I didn’t say he was your equal either, more like superior-”

“He is _not_ my superior! We’re evenly matched, that’s the thing! Identical grades, equally perfect scores.”

“Uh huh.”

Max set the chair down against the counter as Neil ranted, cursing his stupid short legs yet again for failing him. And fuck Sasquatch too for keeping dog food on the upper cabinet. Who does that?

“I mean, what’s the point? Why should I be proud of excelling in math if fucking Space Kid is just breezing by too? Is the class even that hard?”

“Sometimes, idiots are good at math. It’s not that complicated, Neil. Besides, I thought you liked other sciencey kids.”

“Not a wannabe astronaut. I have standards.”

“Well, shit. Looks like he’s all you got. You’re just gonna have to marry Space Kid.”

“_You_ marry Space kid!”

“You marry Space Kid.”

“You marry Space Kid.”

“You marry Space Kid.”

The two continued to play tennis with the subject of Neil Armstrong Jr. and holy matrimony as Max hit speaker and set the phone on the counter. He climbed up, securing stable footing in the plastic padded seat, and opened the cabinet to rummage inside, arguing with Neil all the while.

He pushed back a few jars of coffee beans, a bulk of packaged toothpaste tubes, four wine bottles filled to the neck with melted candle wax (which were labeled as such.) and many, many, many, _many_ sealed baggies of chicken bones. (At least, he assumed they were chicken.)

“You’re gonna have a wedding on the moon. Or the set where they staged it, whatever.” Said Max, straining to grab the stacked cans which were waaaaay in the back. Again, why? Why the fuck? Sasquatch, what is going on with your kitchen? Do you not use dog food often enough to have it upfront? Is candle wax more important? What the fuck?

“No way. You guys are gonna live on a space station and have a dozen stupid, angry little astronaut babies,” Neil retorted.

Max snorted as he examined a container. It was twice the size of an average dog food can, with the brand name and list of ingredients written in Czech.

He stared a little too long at the dog on the cover, a fluffy heap of a mastiff, with a solemn expression and a pair of large, searing eyes which stared back at him with such purpose that Max was admittedly a little alarmed when the words “Nejsi naše královna.” Echoed in his mind, in a voice he had never heard before.

He shook his head dismissively.

“You’re gonna build a nerdy little cottage on Mars with a gazebo and you’re gonna-DIABLO!”

“....the fuck did you just call me?”

“Not you, It’s just-DAMMIT, DIABLO! GET DOWN!” Max yelled, seizing the edge of the cabinet for support as the normally lazy mutt had mustered a sudden burst of energy. He had done his best to hop on the chair, now squeezing his huge, awkwardly shapen self tight against the boy’s body, head tipped back and eyes locked on the food source.

“Max? Max, are you dead?”

Max didn’t dare move a muscle. “Get down.”

El Diablo whined.

“Don’t even think about it.”

A low ruff, his front paws fidgeting excitedly as his tail began to sway.

“Now, get off the-”

Tar chose that moment to bounce up from the opposite edge, the sudden movement triggering El Diablo into action. He launched upwards, throwing his paws on Max’s shoulders, making a mad swipe for the can with his jaws. The whole operation collapsed, Max being thrown off his balance and the dog yelping in surprise as they were both thrust backwards and crashed to the floor.

Fucking fantastic.

The one thing that prevented Max from getting knocked unconscious on the kitchen tiles was the thankfully chubby, squishy bodied, soft furred idiot known as Tar, who had broken his fall in his utterly oblivious, looking for fun kind of way.

Max released a frustrated huff, puffing a fringe of wild inky curls out of his eyes. Tar nuzzled himself into his face, a wet tongue lopping against his cheek, which did get a smirk out of him. He half-mindedly ruffled the dog’s ears, reminded that he could be dead if it weren’t for this dumbass.

As he was picking himself up, El Diablo had the absolute audacity to attempt licking his other cheek.

“No, not you!” Max barked. “You don’t get affection, you’ve been a fucker!”

And Jesus, did the stupid animal act like as much of a kicked puppy as he normally did when scolded. El Diablo whimpered, adjusting himself into a perfectly crooked and pathetic stance, fixing the boy with one more look with a soft, liquid brown gaze before forlornly sinking his head.

Max rolled his eyes. “You’re worse than Preston.” He muttered, turning to up himself back on the chair.

Once he had retrieved all the cans necessary for the pack’s dinner, he turned back to find El Diablo _still_ sulking. He ignored it.

Tar, on the flipside, was gazing up at him happily, tongue lolling with pride. Max couldn’t help but suspect that he knew he was the favourite dog in the room right now. Clever bastard, Tar was.

“Okay, Tar, no one likes a smug asshole.” He said dryly, peeling the lids back by the tabs. Taking a fork, six tin bowls were filled with the brownish, squishy, minced chunks. To his relief, the stuff smelled like actual dog food. So maybe a little weird but still some legitimate canine fodder.

With Tar already magnetized towards his bowl, Max pushed the kitchen door open a crack and called “Food!”

As predicted, he was nearly swept away in another rush of hounds that bulldozed past him, clutching the doorframe to keep him on his feet. Three, he counted. Three hungry dogs. Max waited a moment and smiled despite himself as the fourth came lumbering forward, in no hurry to keep up with her children. It’s not like they would dare touch her bowl.

“Cupcake.” Max greeted politely, nodding as the aging lady passed him. She nodded back. And as she joined the others, all latched to their respective meals, he sighed at what he saw. He felt a strange mixture of irritation and amusement.

El Diablo had not touched his food. He remained rooted to the spot, softly whining to himself. For fuck’s sake, could he be any more dramatic?

“You going on hunger strike or what?” Max smirked, crouching down by the miserable mutt’s side. Diablo looked to him, cocking his head a little uncertainly as he dared to hope.

The boy let himself cave, setting a reassuring hand on the dog’s head and watching as he lit up in delight. El Diablo pushed himself into his space, streaking a wet kiss across Max’s side profile, despite the grunts of protest and half-hearted attempts to swat him away. With that, he trotted off towards his bowl, secure in the fact that he was still loved and happy to eat alongside his family.

Max stood up, satisfied. He went to retrieve his phone on the counter, unsurprised to see Neil had hung up on him and left the last word in the form of a text thread.

_So. I’m just going to assume you’re dead._

_R.I.P_

_But anyway...._

He rolled his thumb down the screen as a wall of words rushed before his eyes. Impeccable grammar and spelling but essentially a written rampage by Neil, who was apparently not done complaining about Space Kid.

Max glanced back to the dogs. He was met by six behinds, all wriggling into each others’ space and affixed with happily wagging tails.

Alright. So far, so good.

* * *

So far, not so good.

His forefinger ticked anxiously against the edge of his backpack, still hopelessly rummaging around for something he _knew_ wasn’t there.

Because he specifically remembered the hurrying disarray in which he shoved in the bare essentials for an overnight stay. Mr. Honeynuts had remained in place, observing from his perch on Max’s pillow.

He had made a mental note to pack the teddy bear last. He remembered scribbling the thought down on a metaphorical post-it note, underlining it with three intense strikes. It had been tacked to the tip of his cerebral cortex, swearing not to forget.

Yet he forgot.

David had chosen that exact moment to throw down the door, hollering “I’m hoooooooooome~” like an idealized abomination of a 1950s family sitcom that he had dedicated his life to embodying.

It was often difficult to concentrate when David arrived home as like always, Max was fussed over within an inch of his life. He was interrogated about his day, asked if he had taken his multi-vitamins and antihistamines and if he had done his homework and what did he want for dinner, etc.

He would admit that having constant parental love and support was appreciated sometimes but completely unnecessary when he had serious business to attend to.

After excusing himself with something along the lines of “Sleepover at Nikki’s” Max had escaped the apartment in a flurry of “uh huh, yeah, got it,” in response to every warning and well wish David had shot his way, finally cut off from the doting with a curt “loveyatoo,” and nodded himself out.

Leaving without Mr. Honeynuts.

“Fuck you, David.” He said through a clenched jaw, hurling the bag on the bed in defeat.

Tar, who was stretched out lazily across Nikki’s pillows, lifted his head at the disturbance.

The two shared a gaze for a moment, the dog utterly clueless but concerned nonetheless and Max at a complete loss, raking a hand through his hair.

“What am I gonna do?” He asked blankly. As if the fucking mongrel would have some kind of solution to his problem.

Well to be fair, if any living being in the house could help him, Tar would be the most likely candidate. Out of the entire pack, his bond had always been tightest with the jet black and lovable brother and that dog would do absolutely anything for him.

In fact, his fur colour was considered a rather ironic staple of his habit of shadowing Max. Something he had been doing ever since the boy had first stepped foot in the place three whole years ago. Ever since then, Tar had devoted himself to being a big, doofy and slobbery guardian angel to his short, chicken legged liege. Suited him well.

Max broke off from the edge of the bed and began pacing, burning footprints into the carpet. “Can’t fucking believe this.” He mumbled, infuriated at David.

Well....maybe not....okay goddammit, maybe it was his own damn fault.

After proceeding to trod on a pair of crumpled jeans, Max plucked them up and tossed them in the open wash basket. Were its contents ever washed? Did he even want to know what else was in there? Was he just setting those jeans up for a forgotten life of mold and cobwebs. Didn’t know, didn’t care. Could be a dead rat in there. Not his business

Jesus, Nikki’s room was cluttered. Max observed this as he nudged away a soccer ball with his foot. It rolled into a corner, knocking against her assortment of pizza boxes. According to Nik, the plan was to eventually stack up enough to build herself a throne. She had really taken Neil’s “Empress of pizza consumption” comment to heart. Twas a title she bore with pride.

The three of them frequently dwelled in this bedroom together, enjoying themselves with their exclusive weekend “Benders.”

That was a term David didn’t like much, which confused Max to no end. Nikki had been the first to start saying it, something she picked it up from her Dad and his buddies. She gained a lot of questionable vocabulary that way.

Max didn’t really get what was so wrong about it. It was a lot cooler than dubbing their nights a “Sleepover” like all the other kids. Plus, it annoyed David so he was morally obliged to use it now.

Now, their “Benders” did not involve as much mischief as one might believe. When anyone who knew them thought Max, Neil and Nikki, they thought Hell raising acts of delinquency. And as devoted to that kind of chaos as they were, the terrible trio needed some time to relax too.

Which is why their Benders usually involved making nests out of pillows and getting themselves comfortable in front of Nikki’s large, chunky CRT TV. Not only did it have an adequate console hooked up to it, she had an actual VHS player and a whole box full of tapes that she watched religiously. Mostly episodes of Xena: Warrior Princess and the Rambo movies which Sasquatch has passed down to her. But there was also an impressive supply of old horror films, which provided hours of entertainment for the three teens.

Every so often, the boys would rely on Nikki’s setup to play every video they got their hands on. And afterwards, she would always add them to her stash.

Nikki could be considered a collector of sorts. There were other words to describe her for sure, though it all depended on Max’s mood. If his snark readings were high, she was a hoarding little hobgoblin. But if he had been thinking of her fondly that day, she was simply a sentimental person.

But as he skimmed the top of bookshelf, laid with dozens of oddly shaped rocks that she found cool, he had to wonder just how far her emotional attachment went. Arrowheads and animal teeth, a slingshot and an assortment of keys and buttons, fossilized insects, abandoned ant farms, jars of withered leaves and twigs that once nursed pet spiders and caterpillars. All sacred relics as far as Nikki was concerned.

It was only when he reached the lower shelves, did a deeper understanding of her interests come to light. Faded sketchpads marked by the year and shiny cases of colouring pencils. And books. Far more books than Max had ever owned. Everything from tattered sports magazines to comics to thriller novels to thick encyclopedias on subjects such as Vikings, medieval weapons, endangered species and evolution. Lines of athletics trophies gathered dust, accompanied by an artificial replica of a wolf’s skull. She had marked certain features in sharpie, whatever the reasoning behind it Max couldn’t tell you.

Pink wallpaper, faded with age and patterned with smiley faced cupcakes, had wrapped every inch of the room. It struck him as odd when he first saw it but honestly, he shouldn’t be surprised.

Nikki had never cared much about her surroundings, unless it was an unhealthy city environment. She never bothered to redecorate her room, only adding layer after layer as the years pass by. Hell, Max figured if you scraped back enough, all archeologist-like, you could dig up her building blocks and teletubbies toys. And hell, even with the wallpaper that she had clearly picked out at age three, she was slowly coating over it with posters and art.

Spiderman and Wonder Woman popped out to him from the wall above her headboard. Sports teams and Game of Thrones, anime, dinosaurs and battle axes. Art class assignments of anonymous bodies lined in charcoal and still life pencil sketches of derelict sneakers with undone laces. She was pretty good with a drawing utensil, he’d give her that.

Winding around again, he came back to where he started, sparing a nod at Tar who was observing him from his perch.

Max ran a hand across Nikki’s sheets, taking in the details of little blue shark silhouettes against a turquoise wash. Didn’t look dirty. Didn’t smell bad. The bed was even made properly, save the creases from having the dogs bouncing all over it today. Either Sasquatch or Nikki had made it presentable for him.

Eh. Probably Sasquatch.

Not that it mattered, anyway. It wasn’t like he was going to get any sleep tonight. Not without Mr. Honeynuts. However, much thanks to the family for supplying him with a clean, comfortable bed to toss and turn in hopelessly and be alone with his terrible, terrible thoughts for the rest of the night.

Tar chose that moment to affectionately lick at the hand stroking the bed. He glanced up, no doubt wondering why the boy’s movements had suddenly stiffened.

He stood there idly for a moment, scratching at Tar’s ears as he forcefully headbutted himself into Max’s hand, blinking up at him slow and steady. The dog did not know the more complicated details of the problem at hand but he knew damn well when there was something bothering his boy.

Rain droplets had begun smattering Nikki’s window. It was nonchalant ambiance at first but it seemed in the few moment of silence, a cloud somewhere had full on exploded and now a heavy downpour was lashing down on the roof.

“Alright.” Max announced, addressing the dog who sat up in attention. “Bedtime.”

Tar cocked his head, pattering his front paws in place.

“No. You heard me. Bedtime.”

He woofed, his fidgeting getting a little more excitable.

“No.” Max repeated, pointing a stern finger. “Not here.” He thrust it towards the door. “Out. Downstairs. C’mon.”

After a short period of hemming and hawwing (or woofing and whining, whatever the canine equivalent was.) He managed to coax Tar out of the room and into the hallway, falling behind as large footsteps quickly plodded down the stairs.

Max pushed open the living room door, allowing Tar to join his family and within milliseconds, the dog was launched on by an aggressively playful ink and chocolate blur. The blur of his older sister to be precise.

Carnage was nowhere near the biggest nor the strongest of the pack but she had always been the feistiest. A lot like Nikki. In fact, she was responsible for Nik’s childhood habit of snapping at strangers’ hands to assert dominance. She learned from the best.

The dog played rough, sure, but that was all it was. Playing. She loved to wrestle and fight, all while grinning sloppily at her opponent, delighted that she was receiving attention.

She was currently getting that treatment as Tar barked enthusiastically at the surprise scrap, attempting to shove her down with his weight as she tugged at his ear.

Leaping in an aimless cycle from the floor to the armchair to the couch to the floor again, was Murderer. He clenched a toy bunny between his jaws, an object Max recognized as El Diablo’s possession. And indeed, Murderer kept sending his brother keen glances, hoping he would spring up and chase him. Murderer loved games.

But looked like he was fresh out of luck getting any fun out of El Diablo, AKA the deadest weight of an animal known to man. (When he wasn’t hungry, of course. No, no, if he was hungry he’d be throwing kids off chairs or some shit.) He lay in a heap on the floor, blinking up at Murderer with sleepy eyes. He yawned.

Max yawned too.

Off to the corner, Bonecrusher was getting particularly heated, barking and snarling at what seemed to be his own shadow, cast across the wall by the nearby lamp.

Bonecrusher, that charming son of a bitch, had a heart as big as the solar system and a brain the size of an apple seed. Back when he was a kid, Max used to get frustrated by the dog’s apparently hollow skull and would usually scoff at the sight of him, unimpressed by his blank, stupid look. But over the years, he had become accustomed to his dimwittedness. Intelligence aside, he really was a quality canine where affection and loyalty were concerned.

Hell, look at him now. Despite there being no actual danger, Bonecrusher was still deadset on defending on his home and family from this suspicious stranger.

Taking pity on him, Max switched off the lamp.

Bonecrusher’s ears flew up in surprise as his shadow suddenly vanished. Confused and alarmed, he threw himself nose first into the wall, yelping at the collision.

Max rolled his eyes.

“You’re doing great, Bones,” He muttered, scratching the dog’s ears as he strolled back towards the door, meeting Cupcake’s eyes as he did so.

She was settled on the couch, head up and eyes bright as she observed her children and front paws crossed neatly. Max nodded at her. She nodded back.

“Okay,” He announced to the pack. “You’ve eaten, you’ve played, you’ve pissed. Now, do me a favor and go the fuck to sleep-”

A flash.

Lighting struck in the blink of an eye, a rush of white light seared the room and it was gone. All heads turned to the window in shock before a sudden boom of pounding thunder filled the sky, causing even Max to jump.

And fuck knows....dogs do not care for thunder.

A bark brigade started up at once, knocking a headache into his skull as they all attempted to make a louder racket than nature’s angry forces. Tar was howling, body pressed defensively against Max’s knees. One hand on his hip and the other reaching subconsciously to stroke Tar’s head, he scanned the room in annoyance.

The panic did not die away. Actually, it seemed to be getting worse as the thunder racked on.

Well, it’s not like storms last forever, he shrugged to himself. The dogs would probably quiet down once it was over. With that thought in mind, he turned to leave for bed, shutting the door behind him.

Bad move, apparently.

The dogs yelped in protest, the resounding bangs from the other end were as if they had thrown themselves against the door at full force. Several pairs of paws scraped desperately against wood as they cried and begged for him to return.

“Shit, shit, alright already,” He muttered hastily as he re-entered and was immediately pounced on by Murderer. Wincing he awaited the assault on slobber but one second, two, three passed and nothing. Max cracked open an eyelid.

Murderer was stood on his hind legs, front paws fastened to the boy’s shoulders and bright brown eyes pervaded with fear. He was whimpering.

“Hey...” Max breathed, running a hand down the dog’s nape. The simple touch found the large, bulky frame to be trembling. “It’s okay...”

He looked to the other five, all of which were getting extremely agitated.

“Goddammit.”

* * *

“FU’IN’ SE’LL DOWN!” Max snapped, before momentarily ripping out his mouth guard. He thrust it in the dogs’ general direction as they fooled around on Nikki’s bed. “I said settle down! You guys should be grateful I’m allowing this.”

The bedding was in disarray from their bouncing and Murderer and Carnage were currently playing Tug O’ War over a pillow, the other three attempting to butt in somehow. Near the end, El Diablo was dead to the world, lying on his back and snoring at a volume that could match the thunder.

Speaking of the thunder, it had quieted some and the dogs were much calmer now. Although Max felt as though the relief of sleeping near him had really been what eased their nerves. They would probably start up again if he kicked them out.

Shed of his day clothes, he tossed his hoodie and jeans over his backpack, marching across the room and pointed sharply to the floor.

“Down.” He ordered, watching as the pack tumbled of the bed. Excluding El Diablo of course, who was still legally comatose, head hanging off the edge with dangling ears.

Max sighed. Speaking from experience, there was no way to wake that fucker up.

“Fine. That one can stay there, just ‘cause he’s too heavy to push off.” He said, peeling back the blanket. “And I don’t wanna hear any bitching about it from the rest of you. Got it?”

Sitting upright on the carpet, the dogs stared at him. Cupcake blinked. Tar tilted his head, puzzled.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Now, I repeat. Go the fuck to sleep.”

Max climbed into bed, slipping his mouth guard back in and flipping the light switch by the headboard. He flopped, exhausted, burrowing deep into the covers.

Not twenty seconds passed and he sighed in defeat, stretching to grab his phone from the bedside table. Pulling up his most recent messages, he re-read them to himself.

It was late. Way later than he usually turned in. However the thrill of being left unattended came with the perk of choosing his own hours. And no matter how tired he was, Max would sooner bite off his own finger, than sleep at his usual bedtime when there was nobody around to force him.

Of course, David had sent him a burst of texts roughly three hours earlier. He always did when he spent the night anywhere but his own bed.

_Goodnight Max!!!! Sleep tight!!!!!! Don’t let the bed bugs fight!!!!!! <33333333_

_Don’t you think I’m joking about that either, mister. In this house, we encourage love and communication, even when we disagree. I’ve done my best to teach you that and if you see ANY bed bugs fighting, you gotta make them understand that they can use their words instead of violence! We all can!!_

_I believe in you to make this world a happy and peaceful place, Max. And if you gotta start with something small like bed bugs then gosh darnit, you be the best bed bug whisperer you can be! :)_

_Now, kiddo, I know you’re not gonna forget about me in this one night away from home but I just want you to remember that I love you bunches and I hope that you’re happy, warm and safe tonight. I know you’re not scared of thunder anymore but if this storm is upsetting you in ANY way, you just call me, alrighty? Doesn’t matter what time you call, I’ll answer!_

_It’s just I’m a little worried about you is all. I know you’re growing up real fast and my parenting book says that detachment from your old toys is perfectly normal at this age but Mr. Honeynuts, Max?? I found him sitting on your bed and I was shocked you didn’t bring him along. Not that there’s anything wrong with that!! But if you’re having any doubts about leaving him behind, I can drop him over to you any time, no problem!_

_Okay????_

_Ok._

_I love you, Max!!!!! <33333333333_

He scrubbed his eyelids as he tossed the phone aside, wondering if he made the right decision in not taking David up on his offer.

Obviously, Max didn’t want that moron driving a good half hour into Sasquatch’s Hell Domain, as a thunder and lightning storm sizzled and sparked like the wrath of enraged Gods. The man would undoubtedly find some implausible way of getting himself killed. By fallen tree, by direct strike, by pissed off wildlife, by bucket. Anything was possible with David.

And all for what? To bring his bitchy kid his teddy bear so he can get a good night’s sleep? Fuck that. Max may be a selfish prick but he had a Dad now and he was morally obligated to keep said Dad alive.

It was just one night. He could handle this.

Just as he was squeezing his eyes shut tight, as if that would force sleep to come, a soft, miserable whine could be heard from behind him.

Max rolled over to meet Tar’s pleading eyes. The dog’s chin was propped against the bed, in his typical begging position.

“Nuh uh. No’ happenin’, man.”

Tar’s gaze flickered to the comfortably log-like El Diablo then back to Max again.

Sighing, he slipped out his damn mouth guard _again_.

“No, dude, I told you already. I’m making this one exception on account of I can’t move him. I’m not happy about this either but the rest of you guys aren’t getting special privileges just ‘cause your brother’s a lazy bastard.”

The dog tilted his head again in that pitiful ‘Oh, woe is me, I’m an animal with too tiny a brain to comprehend your human words’ act again. Which was total bullshit, by the way. Max knew damn well that Tar had at least twice the braincells of certain humans. Not naming names though.

..................Nikki.

Still playing dumb, Tar threw his front paws up, causing the bed to spring.

“No.”

Max just watched it happen, blinking slowly, too drained to even continue the argument as all four legs had hopped up.

“I said no, Tar.”

The large body relaxed itself, nestling snugly against Max’s stomach.

“You’re crushing my arm.” He grumbled. Tugging his limb free, he had nothing else to do with it than let it hang over Tar’s torso. A welcoming coat of rough fur met his fingers’ touch.

“I’m not happy about this, just so you know.”

And just when things were settling, another! Max felt a snout bump against the back of his head and while just about sitting up to look into it further, Carnage had lept on the bed.

“Hey! I said-”

As if the large, lumbering creature had suddenly morphed into a ferret, she shimmied expertly into the tight gap between his lifted head and the pillow.

“Ah, fuck you, Car-....” He groaned. Resigned to his fate and knowing there was no debating with Carnage, he did as she intended he do and rested his head against her.

And why, in the name of all that is good, should Max assume that it would stop at just three dogs? Within the next two minutes, Cupcake, Murderer and Bonecrusher had all found themselves a cozy spot atop the bed, packed in as close to Max as possible.

He felt like the runt in a basket of puppies. Squished, hot, uncomfortable and incapable of movement. Still pissed off and irritated, he hugged Tar tighter.

The thunder had silenced completely, with the last trickle of rain just ebbing away. In theory, there was nothing for the dogs to fear now. No reason for them to stay. But they had already achieved their goal so there was no force on earth that could make them budge now.

Shit, was this their plan all along? Were they ever even scared?

.......Nah, that was ridiculous. Dogs don’t have that level of intelligence. Right.....?

Well, smarts or no smarts, Max would definitely be observing their behavior more closely from this point on.

“I hate all of you.” He whispered into the darkness. The sentiment was utterly useless unfortunately as all six canines were in various stages of sleep. Though even if they were awake, it’s not like they would believe him anyway.

Well, this was gonna be one Hell of an unpleasant night. In a bed that wasn’t his own, forced into a snuggle pile by a heap of dumb mutts and no comfort toy to guarantee he would get even a wink of sleep. Fucking fantastic.

But as Max lay there, accustomed to the snoring and his own breathing now in sync with Carnage and Tar, he felt himself relax more and more by the minutes. Eventually he found the obscure shapes and shadows of nothing an uninteresting enough sight to warrant closing his eyes.

And once they slid shut, they didn’t open ‘til morning’s light. For that night, Max had what was truly the soundest sleep in at least a decade.

* * *

_Howd u sleep?_

_Like shit._

Texting with one hand, pouring milk into his cereal with the other, Max pointedly ignored Bonecrusher, who was gazing up at him with rapt curiosity.

“People food, Bones. It’s people food.”

Rolling open a drawer and rummaging around, (why are all their utensils bent? Why are these people like this?) he managed to produce a single untouched spoon and stabbed it in his breakfast as he head out the back door, Bonecrusher at his heels.

This backyard was, by no means, the usual yard of a single man with a teenage daughter. Not a simple square of overgrown grass boxed in by a chipped paint fence. No broken lawnmower with an old swingset in shambles.

Because why would Nikki have ever needed a shitty swingset to entertain herself when she had all this? To sum it up, Max could understand perfectly why she got so antsy about being separated from the woods. It was the environment she was raised in.

Just outside her back door was a wide expanse of overgrown grassland, glowing emerald in the sunlight after last night’s shower. The nearby forest invited entry in a crescent shape that cupped the house like a shield. As he raked his gaze up and down the stretching trees that scraped the skyline, he could see how she had become such an efficient climber.

The remaining dogs were already in the yard, having been let out to piss as Max prepared his breakfast and were now burning away all their morning energy. Lower halves of their bodies disappeared under the long grass of the field and they galloped and charged and pounced and played, six lolling tongues a clear tell that they were having the time of their lives right now.

Max sat himself on the porch and mouthed a spoonful, careful not to chomp down right away. Instead he let it slosh around a little, lingering on each individual tooth in the hopes that all that sugar would rot through the enamel. Take that, _David_. Fuck you for refusing to buy Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

His phone buzzed.

_That sucks. I slept great tho!_

Shit. He was meant to ask her that, wasn’t he? David always said that it was polite to ask people questions about themselves and their wellbeing during conversations, as not to make it all about him.

Something Max found unnecessary, honestly. At the time, he had rolled his eyes at the notion of needing Conversation Lessons. There was no point in making nice with most people if they weren’t all that pivotal to his life anyway. However, he still tucked that piece of advice in his mind for when it came to people of importance. Nikki, for example.

He still forgot sometimes though. Luckily, Nik would tell him shit unprompted whenever she felt like it, invitations be damned.

Admittedly curious about that, Max replied.

_How the fuck could you possibly sleep when you were out in the wilderness in the middle of a thunderstorm?_

_Im a sound sleeper. Didn’t even notice. Oh but a ton of the trees were struck by lightning and its SO COOL! LOOK!_

Nikki sent him a picture of a willowy tree that had been sliced right down the middle, its insides boiling vivid red and orange like a streak of molten lava.

_Ok. That is cool._

_RIGHT???_

S_o were you guys crowded? Did you have to share a tent?_

_Tent? Nah fam there was no tent_

_Then where the fuck did you sleep?_

_Hole_

_......what?_

_HOLE_

_You slept in a hole? Why?_

_Yea dude, it’s a family tradition. Every time we go on a retreat, we all dig our own graves cuz ya never know who’s gonna make it out alive yknow? And even when we survive, don’t want all that digging to be for nothing so we sleep in our holes_

Max’s fingers hovered over the keys for a thoughtful moment before he shook his head. Why ask? It certainly wasn’t the strangest thing Nikki had ever told him about her family.

_Has anyone ever died on a retreat?_

_Cousin Bluethighs. But that’s only cuz he got caught._

_Caught by who?_

_Cops_

_What did he do?_

_I told you, he got caught_

_FOR WHAT?_

_Nothin exactly. Its just that most of our entire family isnt technically allowed in 29 states. Not since the coyote fiasco of 84. So we try not to get caught anymore_

_Oh. Ok._

Max was nodding along to himself as he took that information in, just glancing upwards to find Murderer happily trotting over to him.

He scooped another mouthful and munched patiently as he waited for the the dog cut distance. Once he had reached Max’s bubble, he ever so carefully lowered an old, weathered tennis ball at the boy’s feet.

Max raised an eyebrow, Murderer sitting upright and giving him a look that was hesitantly hopeful, his tail swishing in that slow, uncertain way.

He picked it up, wincing at the thick layer of saliva against his palm and tossed. Predictably, Murder was overjoyed, breaking into a sprint to retrieve the ball. Max had a funny feeling that he had just dedicated himself to an endless loop of fetch until Murderer passed out.

Which would not be for a while. That animal had as much vigor as Nikki.

_How are the dogs? _She asked.

_Still bastards._

_They sure are!_

He smirked at that. He could practically hear the pride in her voice.

Snapping a picture of a heavily panting Murderer and sending it her way, he threw the ball again. To be honest, he was relieved the dog didn’t seem to be bored of this game yet, despite not being given much of a run.

Max didn’t exactly have a great throwing arm. With God as his witness, he would never engage with a sport of any kind. He was above that, surely. But with an athletic prodigy like Nikki as an owner, he figured the dogs were accustomed to a challenge that he couldn’t provide himself.

But luckily, they were easily pleased and dumb as sin when it came to fun and games. It was the attention and company that mattered most to them.

_Did you walk em yet?_

_Gonna do it now._

Well. _Now,_ he was anyway.

Truthfully, taking the dogs on a walk had slipped his mind until that moment. Sure, it was on Sasquatch’s note but as far as Max was concerned, that was more of a Suggestion List.

But did they even want to go on a walk? They seemed to be having one Hell of a time just frolicking in the yard like a bunch of wild deer.

Sasquatch had a line of hooks nailed to the wall, where all six harnesses hung idly. Wandering over, Max’s fingers curled around one leash, drawing it close to inspect notches of bite marks.

And just like that, everything about the world that held him and the natural flow of things rippled ever so slightly. A disturbance, he would call it. Nothing huge or significant. Just as if the Gods themselves had been momentarily thrown off guard.

Max couldn’t say for sure how he knew but when he turned around, there they were.

The dogs had gone immobile in their tracks, their eyes locked on his every movement. He feared if he jerked too suddenly, they would pounce.

Tar was the furthest from him, leg cocked against a tree. And Max swore, fucking _swore_ that the dog’s trail of piss had frozen at will.

That was not possible. Not physically possible, right? None of this was right. Nothing about this area or those dogs were right. What the ever loving fuck?

“So....” Max began, clutching hold of two more leashes, tugging them to test the waters. “Walk?”

Carnage barked in affirmation and that set them off. In a speeding hurdle of clumsy limbs and discharging excitement, they blasted towards him, once again striking him to the ground and coating his face in slobber in a fit of pure delight.

Alright. So, maybe they _did_ want to go on a walk.

* * *

“FUCK ALL OF YOU!” Max practically screeched, his already uneven voice box cracking terribly at the rise in volume.

He slammed the front door shut as the last of the dogs had trotted inside, dragging loose leashes behind them. They tracked clumps of mud down the front hall and sprayed the walls with dirt as they shook themselves dry.

Max remained in the doorway, still shivering with shock as he dripped puddles where he stood. Sludge and filth had caked his frame, damp, filthy hair plastered to his skull and his clothes squelching when he moved.

As a note for future reference: Dogs liked walks. Does not mean he should take them on walks, however. Especially after a storm the night before, when puddles and mudslides were washed across every pathway.

So, a small thirteen year old attempting to keep control over six rottweilers on an already slippery foundation? Usually unsuccessful. And as Max has learned, said thirteen year old was likely to get hauled by the belly down a whole fucking mile because of a singular squirrel, who had bumped its way up to the Number One spot on Max’s shit list.

Not to mention, this place was as abnormal as ever. Everything felt slightly weird around here. When the squirrel had finally had enough of the chase, it whirled around and snarled, hastily coughing up a dead sparrow and scampering up the nearest tree.

Now, Max didn’t consider himself a nature kind of guy. All his experience with wildlife was limited to a few years of Summer Camp (and fuck knows that place wasn’t normal.) but he was almost certain that squirrels did not eat birds.

And that’s not even mentioning the bush that bit him. Weird vibes all around is what he was getting at here.

Furious, he stalked towards the hallway table, raising an accusatory finger to a sitting picture frame. For a moment he paused, allowing the sounds of his sopping clothes to speak for itself, just to prove his point. Then he leaned in, eye-to-eye with a young and happy Nikki.

“You did this.” Max hissed.

Tar bumped his leg to get his attention, adding another mud smudge to his already destroyed jeans. The look the dog was giving him was akin to the expressions that designated drivers tend to give their drunken friends.

(Not that he would know anything about bars or drunk people, being just a kid at all. And even if he had hypothetically run amock across a public house before, you’ll be relieved to know he was not there for drinking reasons. Illegal reasons, sure, but Neil said it was best to remain silent about all that.)

“Yeah?!” He snapped at Tar. “This is her fault, what about it?!”

Max whirled back on the picture, palms grasped at either ends of the table with enough force that the structure shook. “Oh, I get it, Nikki, I get it. All those times I fucked around with you and you’re finally getting your revenge, huh? I see. I see exactly what’s going on. Leaving me to get eaten alive by your fucking _Monsters!”_

He threw his head back to the dogs as he yelled that last word, making absolute certain that they heard him

But while they did hear, their ears perking up at the address, the English language still flew over their heads and they remained staring at him with big stupid grins, emitting sheer contentment after their walk and leaking filth from their fur.

He was gonna have to hose these fuckers down, wasn’t he?

* * *

Max was livid. He was enraged. His mind, heart and soul were all individually boiling several red hot kettles of fury. He was going to tear the fucking toilet in half.

The dogs. Would not stop. _Barking._

He pressed his head against the cold tiles that lined the shower, teeth clenched and heaving breaths through his mouth. To think, he believed the running water above head would drown out all the noise.

This was meant to be relaxing. This was meant to be solitude time. This was not the time for his six needy charges to give him a splitting headache from over a floor below. Could they not entertain themselves alone for_ fifteen fucking minutes?_

It was common knowledge that when the pack wanted to come inside, they would make themselves heard. They had always been the kind to protest. But after getting hosed down, they had to be confined to the yard for a while to fully dry off. Plus, as a punishment of some sort. Though Max doubted they would understand that aspect.

Shutting the rinse off, he pattered across the bathroom and propping up over the toilet seat, he yelled out the window “I hear you, now shut up!”

They didn’t, of course. If anything, hearing their boy’s voice had given them hope, pumping them full of adrenaline and they only upped the ante.

Max released a steadying sigh, knocking his fist against his forehead. Fuck, he wanted to throw something. If only Space Kid was around and he could just launch him across the room like a goddamn football.

Not like he would mind. He never did.

This was unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. He muttered his unintelligible irritations as he towel dried himself.

He was never dogsitting again and that was final. Sworn on David’s already fragile, teetering life, Max would never ever forget this. The way he seethed was inconsolable. He felt like he would be feeling nothing but pure anger for the rest of the year. Was he even fucking capable of getting over it?

* * *

He got over it.

Wasn’t difficult, actually. He just needed roughly two hours to settle down.

David had mentioned a few times to expect sudden changes in his mood now that he was a teenager. Of course, Max didn’t believe his own emotions to be anything but rational but he was slowly coming to the realization that maybe hormones were more responsible for his sudden bursts of rage than he was aware of.

It all felt kinda stupid, in hindsight. The dogs had always been bastards, no point in losing his mind over it now. Nikki had meant no harm in asking him to dogsit. The dogs barked because they wanted to come inside. That’s just what dogs do.

Everything was fine. Nothing serious to get angry over.

Take that, _hormones_. Max was fully capable of calming himself down and there ain’t shit you can do about it!

Although, his mind was still made up. He was never looking after these stupid animals ever again.

“And-a-and-and there-there were eyes! I swear to ya, man, I looked up to the sky and there were eyes! Huge, blinkin’ eyes in the sky! And the flashes, shadows that flashed from inside the forest in the shape of a person!”

“Uh huh.” Max deadpanned, clutching his pizzas and praying that this blubbering idiot would get over the shock of the Devil’s forest already and fuck off before his food got cold.

Don’t think slamming the door in his face was an option either. He had already tried that and the pizza guy had wedged his foot in it, determined to tell his story, despite being a shellshocked, stammering mess.

“There’s somethin’-somethin’....real weird goin’ on out here, kid. I dunno what it is but it’s somethin’. And there was this-this...this old guy, right? But he had no legs! But he was walking around anyway! Floating! Like he had legs but he just....he just-....”

“.....Didn’t?” Max provided helpfully.

“Exactly!” Pizza dude exclaimed, wild eyed and frantic. “I tell ya, kid, I can’t-....I can’t go back out there. I dunno if I’m gonna make it out alive so maybe I should call-”

“Nah, sure you will.” Max cut in nonchalantly. “Visitors get spooked, sure, but they always let them out alive.”

“Who’s_'they'_?!”

“Oh, y’know....” He scuffed his socked foot, thinking on the spot. “Just....some pals of mine....”

“You....” Pizza dude took a step back, eyes flicking up and down Max’s tiny form, disbelievingly. “Are you-....?” He shook his head sharply at that. “Nah you couldn’t....” But his face journey said it all. Uncertainty. Caution. Fear. All that good stuff.

Tar, Carnage and El Diablo took that opportunity to come plonking down the stairs.

Max turned to greet them, wearing a smile he would call uncharacteristic but in this case, essential to selling his act. “Hey Cerberus, give me just two minutes and I’ll put your heads back together, okay? Might have some business for you to take care of in the woods...”

The dogs woofed happily, heading into the living room with the others as he returned his attention to Pizza Dude.

Said dude had gone stiff, nearly jumping out of his skin as Max looked back to him.

“You might wanna take your car and get out of the area before I let the Hellhound loose. Don’t worry, buddy, I’m sure we’ll meet again. If you give in to temptation, I’ll be the first face you see after you die.”

He smirked, gesturing to the parked vehicle with his thumb. “But right now? You should vamoose,”

The dude did. Fuck, he nearly smashed his face into the dirt running to get away from him. Max waved halfheartedly to the unholy screech of tires down the driveway.

That went well.

* * *

Max really liked Cupcake.

Sure, she was a member of this squadron of assholes and was guilty by association. Hell, if she hadn’t gone and multiplied, none of this would be happening in the first place. It could be argued that she was responsible for every inch of havoc the dogs wreaked, for the sole reason that she had popped all of them out and it’s been downhill ever since.

But when considering her as she was now, old, gentle and sweet, he couldn’t bring himself to blame her for anything.

The evening announced itself with a setting sun, something the house inhabitants just barely acknowledged. They were clustered around the television, all pizza devoured (45% of it by El Diablo) and were now entranced by Dr. Phil interrogating some single mother who allowed her seven year old son to operate his own underground ecstasy market. He was a smart kid, Max would give him that. Real smart with his money. Wore a little suit and everything.

Don’t ask him why the dogs had this fixation with Dr. Phil, he had no fucking idea. But if it kept them quiet and content for an hour, whatever, right?

But at some point during the show, Cupcake had hopped up on the couch and snuggled up against his lap. She didn’t sleep at first, but instead gazed up at him with soft eyes, years of wisdom whirling around behind the sheet of her dark brown irises.

Max blinked slow, calmed by this for whatever reason and stroked down the thick of her ears. Her favourite spot for pats.

And with the warmth and comfort of the patient hound weighing him down and with the certainty that the others could be babysat by Uncle Phil for a little while, Max drifted into a light doze.

Cupcake napped alongside him, both unknowing as the last remnants of day faded away.

An hour.....

Two hours.....

In that time, every dog had wandered over at one point or another and the sleeping boy was once again surrounded by six canine bodyguards, all soaking up each others' body heat as they snoozed.

Nobody even stirred as the sound of tires rolling over gravel loomed in from outside. Nobody awoke as the key in the front door turned.

And when Nikki stepped inside and peaked into the living room, she was greeted to the sight of the whole damn pile.

You’d think she didn’t have it in her to be quiet but a wolf’s heart is a wolf’s heart. She knew a thing or two about stealth.

Stepping ever so lightly across the floor, she produced her phone from her jean pocket and snapped he pic before the grouchy little dogsitter awoke.

The flash is what got him. Max squinted, cracking open an eyelid, still a little fuzzy to the world around him. He registered the girl as familiar but was not yet functioning at a rate where he thought to ask her about her trip, about what time it is, about fucking anything else.

But knew one thing for absolute certain. Something he could bring himself to say, even in his slow, hazy, mind.

“I am never watching your dogs again.”

Nikki beamed.

In the coming months, that photo would be framed as it ought to be, presented proudly alongside Nikki’s picture, declaring him as the family’s most trusted and beloved dogsitter.

Something Max did on several occasions from that point on. “I’m never watching your dogs again.” Became something of a catchphrase with him, said as often as “Fuck you.” Or “Eat shit.”

He never meant it.


End file.
